I’m 33, a mother of two, and officially back on the market. No, I’m not looking for a man (I have a husband who cleans the kitchen nightly- who in their right mind would get rid of that?). I’m talking about the play dating scene. The meat market that is music class, Gymboree, a park, or wherever you take your kids as a stay-at-home parent to keep from losing your sanity. These places are chock full of moms (I say moms here because that is mostly what I run into- although I do have a stay-at-home dad friend in the boys “gym class”) who, in between hovering over their kiddos, are also surveying the room, looking for a possible play date partner. Play date partners are essential to help you through the monotonous days that sometimes comprise raising children under five.
You see someone who looks relatively normal across the way. By normal I mean to say that she isn’t sporting prison tattoos or breastfeeding her five-year-old. The two of you strike up a conversation. Here is where kids really come in handy. You ALWAYS have an ice-breaker, something to make small-talk about. “Oh wow, he’s really mobile – how old is he?” or usually in my case “Wow, are both of them yours? I don’t know how you do it!” (uh, I have no choice, and that is also the reason that you have jeans and make-up on and appear to have washed your hair in the last two days while I am barely managing to sport this t-shirt which I may or may not have slept in last night- I honestly can’t remember).
My point is, there is always something to talk about, and contrary to the actual dating scene, its refreshingly never about yourself. This somehow makes it easier for an introvert such as myself to talk to complete strangers with relative ease. Although at least with the regular dating scene, you did have adult beverages which really made everyone so much more interesting and deep. Maybe they should have a cocktail hour at the Little Gym. I’ll drop it into the suggestion box. Anonymously, of course.
This small-talk sometimes leads to an exchanged number or email address and a promise to “get the kids together.” Of course, all of your kids are under two and could care less about “getting together.” Their main concern is whether there is an appropriate amount of Bunny Grahams in your purse for the ride home. Everyone knows that the play dates are for the parents at this age. So it doesn’t matter how cute or smart that little kid is, if his mom is a total psycho, the play date ain’t happening.
So you leave with the hope and promise of a new number or email stored away in your iPhone. But how long should you wait before you text or email? You don’t want the other mom to think you are desperate, that you can’t handle a day or two alone with your kids with nothing but you and a website of “Montessori- inspired” activities to keep them from a total breakdown. Because of course you would never just put on the television at 3 in the afternoon and beg your children to watch Baby Einstein videos while you lay on the couch with a pillow over your head….
After the first play date comes the inevitable post-date analysis. Was she totally offended that my boys smeared peanut butter and banana on her rather expensive looking carpet and drank her baby’s breast-milk? Can I stomach the fact that she actually makes her kids gluten-free, whole-wheat, vanilla wafers from scratch and barely managed to contain her disgust when I whipped out very non-organic fig newtons to prevent a break-down on the ride home? What about that I know waaay too much about her breastfeeding habits after one date? Or maybe she’s just not that into me.
I have met some great moms through this process. A couple of us have been dating for over three months! I also have one that I am reserving judgment on. She may have swept her crazy under the rug just enough at the first introduction, but some of those dust bunnies were peeking out from under the rug on our first date. Just peeking, though, so I think she deserves another chance. That, and I’m pretty sure that by next Thursday at 3 p.m. I’ll meet Ted Kaczynski for a play date just to get out of my house.
this pilgrim soul 